


In Beauclair

by KatiraPathara



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Beauclair, Caring, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Katakan, Reunions, Roach the horse, Short One Shot, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 03:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18065516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatiraPathara/pseuds/KatiraPathara
Summary: When a contract for a katakan goes poorly, all Geralt can think about is a few days rest in Beauclair before setting back out on the path. However, an unexpected encounter with an old friend changes his mind.





	In Beauclair

Autumn arrived in Beauclair with a riot of color. Sunflowers piled on vendors tables alongside the first of that season's apples. Piles of fresh cranberries filled trays alongside pyramids of pomegranates. For Geralt, coming here in Autumn brought back a mix of memories, not all bad.

This time, he’d come because he needed the rest. The katakan contract he’d taken days before left him slashed, bleeding, and bitten in more places than he could count. One of the katakan’s slashes sliced clean through his armor and caught him in the shoulder blade. The wound refused to close properly. At times like this, he almost wanted Fringilla to find him and patch him up for old times sake. She wouldn’t be there, she’d left Beauclair ages ago.

His shoulder blades itched with the sense he was being watched. With a quick glance, he scanned the surrounding buildings lining the broad thoroughfare and the dark shadows formed by the bright sun.

It didn’t take long for his eye to snag on a skulking figure leaning in the opening of an alleyway between two shops. The man wore no uniform or livery. Nothing about his appearance gave Geralt a clue what he wanted. Maybe it was nothing, but he was rarely that lucky.

He cursed the thickly muscled woman of Beauclair’s wall guard for taking every inch of steel off of him down to the small boot knife. Without his two swords over his shoulder he felt naked, defenseless.

Roach shifted beside him. The horse was smart enough to know that in a city of this size he’d get a good meal and a good brushing. Geralt craved a good meal and a bath. With what he’d earned from killing the katakan he could afford it.

He tugged at Roach’s reins. “Come on girl. Let’s see where we end up this time.”

Geralt didn’t get far before he noticed the skulking figure from the alleyway had disappeared. So much for being left alone this trip. Maybe it was a bad idea to come after all.

“Geralt of Rivia, put your hands where I can see them.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order, spoken by someone used to giving orders. The order was accompanied with the whisper of steel being drawn.

Geralt considered his options. Should he resist, or fight, he would catch the attention of the stiff legged guard standing on the corner. Should he go with the man, he might end up surrounded by enemies. Neither option was good.

He turned slowly, keeping his hands visible. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before. Care to introduce yourself?”

The blade concealed in the man’s palm was held in such a way that Geralt had no doubt he knew how to use it. “Come with me, no questions, don’t make a scene.”

Geralt tried to read into the man’s face, his voice. He didn’t detect malice. This man came from one of the wealthy houses, perhaps even the palace itself. He suspected someone important needed him to do a job and needed to bediscreet about it, it wouldn’t be the first time. “Does my horse come too?”

The man’s gaze flicked toward the horse. “Bring her. There are stables.”

“Fine." Geralt shrugged. "I’ll come.”

He followed the stranger through narrow side lanes and up the imposing streets leading to the palace. However, before they reached the tall gates framing the palace entrance, Geralt’s guide turned toward a concealed gate at the back of one of the large estates dotting the hill.

The lone guard gave a nod and opened the gate, they had been expected.

Inside the gate, a neatly dressed and combed stable boy took Roach by the reins and led her away without sparing a single glance toward Geralt.

“Follow me, keep your eyes forward. Those who live here don’t want your attention.” His guide maintained his speed, even within the building. Servants dodged out of his way. He wound his way through progressively narrower  hallways. The lush carpets transitioned to naked marble, to ceramic tile, and then they were outside walking on carefully raked and maintained gravel.

A modest guest house hid in the shadow of the much larger estate with its own private garden. Whoever wanted Geralt, wanted privacy.

His guide opened the guest house door and ushered him in before closing it behind him and leaving. This stranger he was destined to meet wasn’t concerned about their safety either. That limited the number of people it might be to only a handful. Geralt began to list them in his mind.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be out in a moment.” A familiar voice came from deeper inside the house.

Geralt’s mouth went dry. Yennefer. She’d found him. After so long trying to keep her distance from him, begging space, trying to keep the Lodge away from him, she’d finally found a way for them to be reunited.

He would have done as she asked had he not been completely filthy. Comfortable couches and lounges filled the room, all covered in fine brocades and satins. A low table held a tray of carefully cut and arranged fruit and small pastries. He selected a perfect strawberry from the tray and popped it into his mouth. The last time he had enjoyed a fresh strawberry was the day Yen told him that they could never see each other again. The memory turned the taste bitter in his mouth.

“I thought I told you to make yourself comfortable.” Yennefer entered the room and plucked another of the plump berries from the tray.

The sight of her weakened his knees. He had missed her more than he was willing to admit. “Once I’ve bathed I will, I promise.”

She came closer, looking him over, and concern filled her eyes. She traced her fingers over the torn mail and bloodstained cloth on his back. “What did that?”

“Contract west of here. Katakan. Worked me over pretty good before I bested it.”

She clucked her tongue as she found the other cuts and slashes. “And you went alone, didn’t you?”

“Thought I could handle it, and I did.”

She snapped her fingers and his armor vanished leaving him standing in his stained and torn shirt and dark trousers. “From the looks of it, it handled you.” She prodded a spot at his neck, making Geralt grit his teeth “Is that a bite?”

“Only the edge of it, the other half was in the leather.” He pulled her hand away. “You haven’t told me why you risked finding me.”

Yen touched the obsidian and diamond star at her throat, a hint of a smile creased the corners of her mesmerizing eyes. “I’ve finally managed to clear your name with the lodge. I wanted to tell you. The sorceresses agree your actions against them in the past were acts of self-preservation and your efforts to keep Ciri safe, and nothing more.”

“What does this mean for us, Yen?”

“It means, that for now, we can finally be together.” She turned him around so they were face to face. “Kiss me, you old fool.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm all for Geralt and Yen fluff! In the books Yen truly cares for Geralt, but she's always working toward some larger goal that requires her to be mean to him. Here she gets to be nice.


End file.
